


Feeling Faint

by rae_is_typing



Series: Rae's One Shots [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Clint Barton IS A DAD, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Fainting, Fluff, Gen, Illness, Sickfic, Soft Clint Barton, Soft Dad Clint Barton, Team as Family, avengers team as family, clint takes care of you, tonkin resolution is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 21:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19797718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rae_is_typing/pseuds/rae_is_typing
Summary: You faint and Clint helps you out.





	Feeling Faint

**Author's Note:**

> A request from my Tubmlr! 
> 
> Anonymous requested: Hi! I was wondering if you could do a fem!teen!reader x Clint ( platonic) where the reader lives in the Avengers tower and is sick and no one knows what to do and they start freaking out so Clint ends up taking care of her? I love your writing! 💖
> 
> Disclaimer: I’ve never fainted before, so I consulted the interwebs for my information. If you see any mistakes, please let me know

Warm spring rays bathe the communal floor in warmth, negating all need for artificial light in the afternoon. The sounds of video games and banter were distant, easily blending in with the sound of Vision and Wanda cooking in the kitchen.

It was a friday in May, thank god. Fridays meant the weekend and May meant the school year was coming to a close. However, the school year coming to a close meant finals. And finals meant studying, so much studying.

Tony had a rule for you and Peter: homework before heroism. As the only two students in the Tower, you two had to stick together. You found yourself covering for each other if one of you had snuck out for hero purposes, helping each other out with school or even delivering snacks and gum during classes

It wasn't odd to see the two of you sitting at the designated " homework table', a small round table on the communal floor near the TV and surrounding furniture and near the kitchen and dining area. There were four chairs surrounding it so someone well-versed in the subject you two were working on could come and help the two of you out and make the living hell that is High School a little easier.

Today the two of you were on your own. You had caught up on all your homework the night before. You were also dead tired because of the all nighter you pulled to get it done. Feeling like shit after an all nighter was normal for you, but this time it was different. You head was splitting, your nose was running faster than Quicksilver and your entire body was sore. You couldn’t eat anything either, you felt like dying after taking a small sip of coffee earlier that day.

But Peter needed your help learning about the Vietnam War, and you'd be damned if you didn't help him out because you were a little sick. Even if you felt like you couldn’t help Peter out, you weren’t going to say you were sick. Avengers are good at saving the world, not taking care of a sick teenager.

The team didn’t like to leave you and Peter alone together. The last time they left you alone on the communal floor together, all the food was eaten, the kitchen was a disaster after a failed baking experiment, and a ten hour loop of Wii music was left on while you two recreated your favorite vines. Needless to say, some trust was lost.

Clint, Sam and Tony were gathered in front of the TV playing some sort of strategy shooting game. Vision and Wanda were cooking dinner. Peter sat in front of you, reading over his text book over and over again.

"So, the Tonkin Resolution let LBJ have full control over the military?"

"Yeah," You say, leaning heavily into the palm of your hand.

"Why?"

"Because communism."

"That's really it?"

"Pretty much. America wanted the war to escalate to stop the spread of communism," Your voice was flat, and speaking was starting to hurt your throat. You take a long drink from the water bottle next to you and dab at your nose with a tissue.

Peter nods, jotting that down on the paper next to his open text book. You close your eyes, rubbing them. A dull ache had grown in the back of your head throughout the day and the ache went to a roar. You scowled to yourself. It was getting painful to keep your eyes open.

"You alright, Y/N?" Peter asked, looking at you with soft brown eyes. His face was etched with concern and worry.

You offer a small smile, hoping that would calm his nerves a little. Peter was a naturally anxious guy already, and you didn't want to set off his 'Spidey Senses' as Tony likes to call them. "I'm fine, man. Do you have any other questions?"

"Are you sure you're okay? You really don't look great."

You blinked. "I meant questions about the Vietnam War."

"You really don't look good." Peter frowned, his eyes gleamed with concern as they bore into yours.

You picked your head up off your hand and nudged his arm. "I'm a-okay Pete. Do you want me to help you study for your history exam too?" You ask, swallowing a yawn.

"Maybe you should lie down for a bit?" He says meekly. "I'm worried, Y/N. Something feels off," His eyes dart around the room and knees are bouncing rapidly under the table.

"It'll be okay, Pete. So what can you tell me about World War Two?"

Your questions do little to calm Peter's senses, but he begins to ramble about World War Two. Without warning, you feel like the world is spinning around you. You were sure that if you were standing up that you would've fallen. Your head drops to the arm you had resting on the table. Your attempts to breath through the dizzy spell were futile and you barely register the hand that rests on your shoulder before everything fades away.

_____________________________  
Clint bit down on his lip, moving his fingers carefully on the controller. One last kill and he would win. He aimed his gun at Tony's character and pulled his fake trigger. Boom! Right between the eyes! Clint let out a loud whoop, celebrating his victory. Tony's shoulders slump over in disbelief. Sam laughs and slaps Clint on the shoulder. 

"How the hell did you win that?" Tony demands. "I had that in the bag." Clint was about to answer, but he was cut off by a very panicked voice. 

"M-Mr. Stark?" Tony set his controller on the coffee table in front of the three of them. Clint turned to see a very shaky, very concerned Peter. His eyes were a little wet as he wrung his hands.

"What's wrong, kid?" 

"Y/N needs help, something's wrong with her. She passed out." Sam’s head shot up.

“What?” Tony hissed, worry growing in his eyes

"I do- I don't know, sir, she was asking me a question then she just slumped over like that." Peter sounded close to tears. 

Springing up from the table, Tony ran to the homework table. You were slumped over on the table, your head resting on an arm with your other arm hanging limply at your side. Wada had two fingers pressed to your neck, red smoke hanging in the air. 

"Peter, what the hell happened?" Tony demanded. 

“We- we were working on homework and she just fell over.”

"Did she say anything about feeling sick?" Clint cut in, voice calm. He had seen abundantly worse. They all had. But this was you, one of their youngest members, their child. 

Peter shook his head, looking at your limp body then at Tony. "Is she going to be okay?" 

Clint could easily see that Peter was beginning to panic. His hands were shaking and he was close to tears. Tony put an arm around him and led him out of the room. Sam was now leaning over you as well, checking for any visible injuries. Vision was saying something about fainting spells. 

"Back up, guys. Give her some space." Clint says, pushing his way to the table. Your skin lacked its normal color it was cold and clammy when he brushed some hair back from your face. 

"If she's not injured, move her to the couch," Clint says. Wanda steps back, as does Clint. Sam out an arm around your shoulders and them shimmied his other arm under your legs. He picked you up easily and moved to lay you flat on the long sofa. 

"FRIDAY? Is she okay?" Clint asked.

"Her blood sugar is low and she has a cold." 

"That explains the fainting." Clint says. "Can someone grab some hard candy and a glass of fruit juice?"

Wanda swiftly went into the kitchen, emerging in a minute later holding a few hard caramels in her one hand a glass of apple juice in the other. She passes them to Clint, and he sets them on the end table by your feet. 

“FRIDAY, is Banner free?”

“Dr. Banner is taking a nap. Should I wake him up?”

“No,” Clint cringed, remembering the last time Bruce was woken up before he was ready. That turned into a code green a little too fast. “We have to wait for her to wake up.”

__________________

Your eyes flutter open. Your head pounded, and the ceiling was spinning. When did you lay down? Why were you lying down? What happened? 

“Mornin’ sunshine," Clint says softly from his seat on a chair by the side of the couch. 

"Clint?" You ask, sitting up, rubbing your eyes. "What happened?" 

"You passed out, hon. Don't try to sit up," He says, making his way over to you and gently pushing you back down. 

"What?" 

"Yeah, you scared the shit out of Parker." 

"Is he okay?" You ask worriedly. 

"Yeah, Stark's with him," He grabs something from the table beside him. He turned back to you holding some candy and a glass of what looked like juice.  
"Here, drink some of this. Its apple juice," He gives you a glass with gold liquid inside of it. You take your time sitting up, ultimately propping yourself up with the armrest. You sip at the cold juice while Clint continues to speak.

"We’ll have Banner check you when he wakes up from his nap. Something tells me Strange doesn't want to see us for a while."

"How were we supposed to know that Asgardian monsters were going to dye New York pink?" Clint chuckles. 

"I dunno kid, but his cape wasn't too happy about it," He stands up from his spot on the chair. "Hungry?" 

"No, no-" 

"Too bad. Chicken soup with noodles or rice?" 

"Noodles," Your disposition falls flat easily, you were too tired to stand up and not having an obligation felt nice.

"Atta kid. Noodles will always be better than rice.” Clint smiles before moving into the kitchen. You set your now empty glass on the floor and lie down on the couch. You closed your eyes, wishing to escape the beating drum in your head.

You arm was being shaken lightly. “Y/N, wake up, kid. Soups on.”

“Hmm?” You rub your eyes with the back of your hands.

“You fell asleep. The soup is ready. Can you stand without fainting?” Clint was standing above you wearing a purple apron with white bows and arrows on it.

“You’re wearing an apron,” You comment, giggling a little bit. 

“You’re definitely out of it,” He smiles. “C’mon. Sit up slowly,” He put an arm around your shoulders, leading you to sit up slowly. 

“Where’s everyone else?”

“They left. We didn’t want you to get overwhelmed,” Clint answers, helping you stand. He wrapped his arm around your mid-back, guiding you towards the dining area.

He sat you down in front of a bowl of soup while he washed the dishes. You ate the soup slowly, waiting for your stomach to act up. You got through half the bowl before you had to stop eating. 

“How you feelin’, kid?” CLint asked when you pushed the bowl away from you and laid your head on the table. 

“Tired,” You respond. 

“You wanna sleep on the couch here or go to your room?” You shrug your shoulders.

“The table isn’t comfortable, kid. Let’s go to the couch.”

You stand up, letting Clint guide you back to the couch. 

“Get some rest, kid. You need it.”

“Thanks, Clint.” 

The last thing you feel is a blanket being draped over you and a soft kiss on the head.


End file.
